


False Start

by afinemess



Category: The Nanny
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3383735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinemess/pseuds/afinemess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My idea of what happened when CC agreed to accompany Niles to his friend's wedding in "The Boca Story."</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Start

Chester's ears perked up as he heard the sound of CC's heels against the hardwood floor. When the sound wasn't followed by the jingle of his leash, he rested his head against his paws once more.

"Stop pouting, Chester," CC admonished as she inspected herself in the mirror near the front door. She set one hand carefully on the side table as she leaned forward, using her free hand to gently tuck a stray hair in place.

_This time Mommy's going out for a walk_ , Niles' voice rang in CC's head like an intruder. Her face crinkled in annoyance even as she chuckled softly at the jibe. She tugged at the hem of her dress to smooth it out; the black lace complied easily. Turning once, CC shrugged and bent over to brush a piece of dust off of her strappy heels. It had been too long since she'd worn them.

Craning her head to look at the clock, CC saw it was 6:59. Just as she reached for her lace clutch, her telephone rang.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," CC muttered. She picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

No one was kidding her. The doorman informed her that Niles was downstairs waiting for her. She hung up without responding and switched off the lights.

"He can't even pick me up at my door like a gentleman, Chester. Can you believe it?" CC asked as she trotted to the front door. Still snubbed that he wasn't going with her, Chester ignored her. She said goodbye to him and left the penthouse.

…

Niles turned at the elevator's _ding_ and inspected CC from head to toe. "What took you so long? Wings get caught in the rafters?"

"Actually, I was recovering from my total non-shock that you pulled the equivalent of parking at the curb and honking until I showed up," CC tossed back as she walked passed him to the door. "Those old bones too tired to press an elevator button?"

"I just didn't want to get a nosebleed riding all the way up to the clock tower," Niles explained as he caught up to her and held open the door. As she stepped by him, Niles commented insouciantly, "You look nice, Babcock."

CC smiled as she walked to the car.

…

As she slid onto the stool at the table, CC glanced around at the pub. It looked vaguely familiar.

Motioning to the bartender for two beers, Niles grinned as he saw CC look confused and then open her mouth to say something. "Remember this place?"

"I think so…"

"You should. Mr. and Mrs. Sheffield and I brought you here to celebrate your birthday half a century ago," Niles reminded her.

It wasn't until CC's eyes landed on the dart board that it finally clinked. "Yes! I beat you in the darts tournament and you cried."

Niles sat down across from her and placed a coaster in front of her. "You missed a few crucial details in your retelling of the story. The darts tournament was _after_ you threw a hissy fit that we'd taken you to such a 'blue-collar establishment' and my eyes were only watering because you deliberately threw a dart into my hand as I was clearing the board."

CC's laugh released from her and, unbounded, it filled the empty space between and around them. Niles reluctantly snickered too and he thanked the bartender as the middle-aged man set a beer in front of CC and then in front of him.

For not the first time, CC marveled slightly at the history between the two of them. They'd never been friends, not exactly, but she had more of a past with Niles than with almost anyone else she knew.

"Cheers, CaCa," Niles said, holding up his bottle.

CC lifted hers and tapped it against his, both quiet as they took a sip. "So," she began, "in the interest of old times, shall I comment on your 'blue-collar' choice of beer?"

"What would you prefer? Water from a trough?" Niles questioned.

"Ha ha. I'm a lady, dumbass. What about wine or a nice martini?"

Niles rolled his eyes. "You tried to order a Cosmopolitan last time. Do you not remember how it turned out?"

"How do _you_ remember how it turned out?" CC returned, her eyes wide in genuine surprise.

Niles was momentarily saved the discomfort of answering by the return of the bartender with a bowl of pretzels.

"Care to order anything else?" the man asked.

"Nothing else tonight, mate. We're headed to a wedding soon," Niles replied. The bartender nodded and walked off to check on other customers. Niles nudged the bowl towards CC. "Eat up. If the wedding starts at 8, we probably won't be eating dinner until around 9:30."

CC eyed the bowl warily. "I shouldn't."

"Why on earth not?"

"I just don't want any."

"That isn't what you said. You said you _shouldn't_ , as though there's some rule you'd be breaking."

CC shifted uncomfortably and slowly spun the beer in her hands. "Well…since you're being so damn inquisitive, there is a rule I'd be breaking."

"Oh, really? Is there a white-collar rule against pretzels? Or bar food in general? That must be it…'Mitzy, darling, don't touch those starches, who _knows_ whose hands have been in that bowl!'"

"Mitzy? What the hell are you talking about? If you'd shut up and let me talk, you'd save yourself the embarrassment of making asinine guesses," CC snapped.

Niles nodded and motioned for her to continue.

"My mother made me promise to never eat pretzels in public," CC confessed.

Niles stared at her for a full thirty seconds before laughter began bubbling up his throat, escaping through his mouth with little _tsst tsst_ noises. The adorable look of shame that crossed her face proved to be his undoing, and his laughter unleashed into the air.

"I truly hate you," CC remarked, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

Niles mustered all of his British reserve and gulped down the remaining guffaws. He pressed two fingers to his lips and held up his other hand to silently request a moment. "Ok," he rasped, "are you telling me that in the 12 years I've known you, I've never seen you eat a pretzel?"

"No," CC confirmed.

"Even at the baseball game Mr. Sheffield took the family to?"

CC shrugged. "Soft pretzels are entirely different. That's not the point. So, no thank you, I will not have any pretzels."

"Oh, Babcock, it became the point. This is now the point of our entire date here at the pub. This might, in fact, be the point of everything ever."

CC's retort choked on the word "date" and just shook her head.

"After you eat this pretzel," Niles held up one perfectly salted and formed snack, "you are going to explain to me why."

"She claimed it was 'unlady—'" CC began.

"No, no, not why you aren't allowed to eat them. Why you've followed it for the past 75 years," Niles clarified.

CC glared at him. "I don't know. It's just one of those…things. You know, they tell you if you cross your eyes too long, they'll get stuck that way. You grow up and realize it isn't true, but you can't help the fear that grips you when you feel like you've crossed them just a _bit_ too long."

Niles weighed this in his mind, popping the pretzel in his mouth in the meantime. He leaned back in the barstool, sipping his beer to wash down the remnants. "That's a faulty comparison. One involves a true fear—and a valid one because _who knows_ if your eyes really will stick that way—and one is just about a person's inability to stop seeking her mother's approval."

"If it were true, Niles, then every 16-year-old girl's eyes would be perma-stuck. And screw you, it isn't about my mother's approval. It's about fear, too."

"Explain."

"All of the stupid rules my mother enforced upon me—and yes, I know they're stupid and I still follow them. How's that for Stockholm?—were all rooted in fear. No one will love you if you don't do (blank). No one will care about you if you act (blank). The entire world will look on in shame if you eat pretzels in public and my goodness, Ch…CC, will you sit up straight and be less like yourself and more like your empty, shallow sister?" CC explained. She ended her tirade with a long, satisfying gulp of her drink. "And besides, I don't care to hear criticism about following a parent's wishes coming from the man who still works for Maxwell because of his parents' promise to _his_ parents."

"Touché," Niles granted, clinking his beer against CC's again. "I'll let the pretzel subject drop for now."

"Yeah, right," CC replied, knowing Niles would wait for the rest of the night (and maybe his life) watching for CC to eat a pretzel just as Niles vowed to silently and subtly watch CC the rest of the night. Who could resist a bowl of snacks while drinking beer?

"So," CC said, polishing off the rest of her beer. Niles signaled to the bartender for two more. "Last single friend, huh?"

Niles nodded, grabbing another pretzel. "Hard to believe."

"Hard to believe it took this long, you mean, unless you have a lot of friends in their thirties," CC remarked, to which Niles smirked. "Seriously. This kind of thing began happening in college and then throughout my twenties."

"Not hard when you have 2 friends."

"I can't even deny that," CC said with a shrug. She smiled as another beer was set in front of her. "Either way, I understand how you feel."

It was Niles' turn to shrug as he, after silently toasting with CC, sipped his beer. "It was depressing at first but…it's hard to say. I probably could have married at some point by now. But what's the use if it's the wrong person?"

"Aw, you're getting wise in your old age, grandpa." CC laughed at her own joke and Niles took the opportunity to throw a perfectly timed pretzel into her mouth. CC choked and sputtered, banging the table with her fist.

Niles sat and watched indifferently. "I see what your mother means. It is quite unladylike."

"Niles!" CC coughed. "You jackass. It doesn't count if I _choke on it_." She wiped at her eyes and Niles noticed she smudged her eye makeup on the left side.

"A man has to try" was all Niles offered as explanation.

CC shook her head and took a swig of her beer. "I understand what you mean, though. I was supposed to have a date tonight."

"It's impressive how you can direct a conversation back to you when your contribution didn't at all match to what I was saying."

"Yes it does! Let me finish."

"Ok. Go on. Tell me about this rent-a-date you'd originally scheduled."

"Well, I'd been seeing someone—"

"Did this someone know you were watching him?"

"I no longer have any desire to talk to you."

"Did you ever _desire_ to talk to me, Babs?"

"I hate you."

"So you've said."

"So, yes, I'd been seeing someone. We were supposed to go to the theater tonight—"

"Because what a Broadway producer loves to do on her night off is to watch Broadway."

"That's _exactly_ what I said!" CC exclaimed. "But still, I figured that plans are better than no plans, right? But this past weekend he broke up with me."

"Sorry to hear that."

"Funny, I detect no hint of regret in your voice. In any case, I wasn't sorry. He stared at me for a long time after he said it, like he was expecting me to be sad," CC said. She drank from the bottle and stopped her hand as it absentmindedly started floating toward the bowl of pretzels.

"Why weren't you sad? I've seen my fair share of melodramatic breakdowns, the most recent being Chandler's not-at-all-cowardly breakup via letter."

CC's nose crumpled to demonstrate her indifference. "I was pretty pissed…more about the method than the delivery. It passed."

"So this mysterious new beau."

"Yes?"

"Tell me more."

"Why, aren't you curious," CC remarked.

"Babs, if you aren't going to eat a pretzel, you have to at least quench my yenta thirst and tell me more about this long lost lover," Niles reasoned.

"Fair enough. I don't know, I just…every time we talked, I'd get this feeling, like I was waiting for him to say more. Then he'd say something and I'd feel disappointed. It's almost like…" CC paused, her forehead scrunching in confusion. Niles knew better than to push; she wasn't a woman accustomed to sharing her feelings, much less to figuring them out. "It's almost like I never realized I was expecting him to say something, but he always ended up saying the wrong thing."

"You were waiting for something that never came," Niles guessed.

"Exactly! And it was just so frustrating until it wasn't anymore, and that's when I stopped caring. Seems to happen with a lot of my relationships," CC summarized. She sipped her beer again, a thoughtful look still on her face. "So, in conclusion, I have no idea what I'm looking for but I've certainly discovered what I'm _not_ looking for."

"That's something," Niles said. CC nodded in agreement and, preoccupied, grabbed a pretzel. Niles held his breath and watched as she nibbled off a small piece and then held the open edge in her mouth, suckling on it like a baby pig. A few seconds passed and then the piece fell off in her mouth, disintegrating. She continued the practice on another side of the pretzel until, realizing what she was doing, froze and stared at Niles with her mouth wide open.

"Miss Babcock," Niles said gently, harnessing all of his willpower to control his imminent laughter, "please do me a favor."

CC continued staring at him in horror.

"Please never eat a pretzel in public again."

Niles finally let go and laughed so hard that his abdominal muscles contracted. After a few moments, CC couldn't help herself and started laughing as well.

"Congratulations," she declared once the laughter subsided. "You're one of now 5 people who have seen me consume a pretzel."

"Considering all of those people were likely Babcocks, I feel like I've just been cursed," Niles said, polishing off his beer.

CC glanced over her shoulder at the neon clock on the wall and her eyes popped. "Niles, it's 8:15! The wedding's already started."

Niles followed her sightline to the clock and if it were possible, his face shrugged. "No matter. We can make the reception."

"Won't your friend notice?"

"Yes, on the night he's marrying the love of his life, he'll notice that one person is missing from the pews," he replied dryly.

"Good point. In that case, forget you and forget my mother," CC said, grabbing a handful of pretzels and snacking on them.

Niles smiled proudly and asked the bartender for two more beers.

…

"You know, Niles," CC said, staring at her sixth beer, "I haven't had this much fun since…well, since the Broadway Guild awards ceremony."

"Oh, God, what a terrible night," Niles groaned. CC's face fell but Niles, his feet resting on the neighboring table's bar stool, didn't notice.

"I…I know. That's what I meant. I'm having a terrible night."

Niles' face changed to surprise and he turned to CC. "No, no, Babcock, you idiot. I had fun with _you_. I meant everyone else there that night."

"Oh," CC said in relief, her shoulders relaxing. "I know. They're awful people."

"It seems success like yours comes at a price."

"It does. I have to be around trolls all the time, present company included."

"Which is, of course, why you didn't thank anyone. But—and I can't believe I've never asked this—why do you do it?"

"Call you a troll? Well, Niles, you have to admit, the skin's a little craggy and your left ear sort of—" CC began.

"No!" Niles interrupted, pouting and covering his left ear. "Why do you work in theater?"

"I've given a lot of answers to this question. Would you prefer the business savvy answer, the existential purpose answer, the feminist power answer, or the truth?"

"Do you still remember the truth?"

"Of course. It's been the driving force behind most of my life. I knew my mother would hate it," CC answered.

Niles cocked his eyebrow. "Babcock, I'm a little…"

"Disappointed?" CC supplied. "It's the truth. Or, well, it _was_ the truth. I took a job, as you love to remind me, as Maxwell's secretary because it bothered my mother. I didn't need a job, much less one as a secretary. I had a degree in Economics."

"And a rich family."

"Right. That too."

"So why'd you stay?" Niles asked.

CC looked him square in the eye and replied, "For you, of course."

Niles gulped and felt his heart pound up through his chest and through the roof of the bar, leaving a thumbs-up-sized hole behind.

CC snorted and continued, "You wish. I stayed for a much better reason: I like producing theater. It's annoying and frustrating and a lot of fun." She ignored that the explanation for her career was the same for her relationship with the butler just like they were both ignoring that the clock now read 9:46.

"That's a much better explanation," Niles replied, his heart slumping back into his chest. He finished his beer and the last pretzel. "What do you say, Babs? More pretzels or should we order something more?"

CC finished her beer to hide her smile that he didn't mention leaving for the wedding. She knew this momentary truce was somehow exclusive to this specific place, just as their Broadway Guild night was limited to that specific time and place. She wasn't quite ready to let it go yet. "Let's get something more. You pick."

Niles nodded and stood to walk to the bar, grinning. Thank goodness CC hadn't mentioned leaving for the reception.

He slid back into his seat a few minutes later, holding two beers by their necks. "I ordered a _mélange_ of cuisine befitting your delicate taste."

CC snorted. "If they bring a can of Alpo…"

Niles laughed, clinking his bottle with hers. "Well done."

"So how about you, Niles?" CC asked after she'd gulped a little of her beverage. "You've heard all about my disaster of a personal life. What's going on in yours?"

"Please, I don't even have one," Niles said.

"Hey, that's my line," CC said, a lilt of kindness in her voice. "But really—"

"But really, I don't," Niles cut her off with a shrug. "The majority of my adult life has been the Sheffield family."

"Before Sara…well, before, I remember you talked about writing, maybe trying to get published. What happened to that?"

Niles raised his eyes in surprise that she remembered his pipe dream that he hadn't taken a hit off of in over ten years. "I used to think about that. But things happened, one thing after another, and somehow, twenty years have passed, I'm officially middle-aged, and here's where I still am."

"Niles, that's…"

"Depressing," he supplied. "It used to be. My job doesn't require me to exert much intelligence and sometimes, the things I have to do, I just…" Niles' face darkened for a few moments but then cleared quickly. "The family means a great deal to me. I could leave, but I've no idea where I'd go, and I'd likely be lost without them. They've become my own family."

CC nodded, torn between her righteous, adolescent indignance and the beginning of empathetic emotion in her gut. "It's like your life is following a series of steps and you think you're controlling them and that you know where they're going to go but one day you look up and realize you're sort of where you started."

"Babcock, that was damn philosophical," Niles said, nodding in approval.

"Took a few courses back in my day," CC responded airily. A younger man from the kitchen walked up and set down a plate of buffalo wings, a bowl of fries, and a plate of mozzarella sticks. "My delicate taste?"

"What, no good?"

"I wish I could say that," CC said. "I won't be able to get out of my dress tonight."

"Not like anyone will be trying to take it off," Niles muttered as he reached for a French fry.

CC rolled her eyes and grabbed a chicken wing, surprisingly eating it more delicately than she'd attacked the pretzel.

Niles shook his head. "Miss Babcock, I hardly recognize you."

CC finished the wing, sucking the sauce off of her fingers, each digit coming out of her mouth with a tiny _pop_. "Well, Niles, as much as I just _love_ being the uptight socialite with no sense of fun, sometimes I get damn sick of myself."

Niles almost automatically responded with an insulting "me too" until, at the last moment, he stopped himself. Instead, he said, "I understand how you feel."

CC gave him a smile, understanding with perfect clarity what just went through his head. "Thank you." She reached across the table and grasped a mozzarella stick. "It's just…I don't know. It's like I barely recognize myself. I wonder what fresh-out-of-college CC would think of me these days."

"She'd probably applaud how completely you've managed to piss off your mother."

CC laughed but shook her head once it tapered off. "I don't know…I think she'd be pretty disappointed."

"Well, what did you want for yourself at that age? What did you imagine your life would be like?"

CC bit into the cheese stick and let the goopy, steamy string cling to her finger as she thought about it. "I honestly don't know."

"Really?"

"Really. What did you want?"

"I wanted to be a successful barrister with a wife and two children, living somewhere near the water. Water like a small lake, not the ocean."

"Oh. That sounds nice."

"Maybe you never knew what you wanted because you've always thought of your life in terms of others. First your mother, then mostly every boyfriend you've ever had," Niles guessed.

CC ate the rest of the cheese for want of anything else to do. He'd hit the nail on the head and as when anyone correctly guesses another person's psyche, she felt exposed and uncomfortable and a little more known. "That is probably very true."

Her eyes wandered over to the television hanging in the top corner, watching a recap of a football game. "It's like I'm the quarterback but everyone else is trying to call the plays so it all gets muddled up and everything ends up confused…like my life's just been a bunch of false starts."

She looked at him excitedly, proud of her simile, and found that he was looking back at her blankly. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Niles, you've lived in this country for a hundred years now. You still don't understand football?"

"Yes, I understand football."

CC rolled her eyes. "Not that boring sport called soccer. Real football."

Niles shook his head. "I think I know what you were trying to say, and _brava_ for your abstract mind."

"Thank you," CC preened.

…

The clock struck 11pm, their stomach were bloated with fried food, and Niles and CC found it increasingly difficult to justify their continued presence at the pub (given, of course, that the truth—that they found each other's presence quite comfortable and fun—would never be uttered).

Niles paid their tab and placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her toward the exit. A blast of chilly air heavy with night met them and CC shivered, regretting that she'd left her wrap hanging over the edge of her couch. Without a thought, Niles took off his suit jacket and draped it across her bare shoulders.

CC shook her head with a small smile at the corners of her mouth, climbing into the car whose door Niles had just opened for her. After Niles climbed behind the steering wheel, both of them saw a limousine ride by with streamers whipping in the wind.

"Is that your friend?" CC asked in surprise.

Niles chuckled. "I suppose so. Think he ever noticed my absence?"

"You take up so much space, I don't know how he couldn't," CC remarked sleepily, leaning her head back against the sheet.

Niles turned the key in the ignition and put the car in gear, following the route to CC's building. Within minutes, Niles slid to a halt in front of the towering structure. "Well, I'm sorry we missed the wedding."

CC's head pivoted to look at him. Her eyes, fuzzy with beer and drowsiness, met his own. "No, you aren't."

Taking a moment to consider his response, Niles responded with the truth. "No, I'm not."

CC gave him a smile with more tenderness than she ever would have allowed if she'd been in more control of her faculties. "I'm not either."

Undoing the seatbelt, CC pushed open the car door and Niles hurried after her. They both naturally paused on the sidewalk, away from the earshot of the doorman.

"Thank you for tonight, Niles." CC didn't say more; she only pulled his jacket more tightly around her.

They both felt the evening ending and like a child having so much fun he doesn't want to go to sleep, they felt the beginning ebbs of sorrow encroaching upon their happiness.

Niles stepped forward and seemed to want to touch her in some way, but he couldn't figure out where. Face? Arm? Waist?

CC watched him step forward and thought he was going to kiss her. Her heart rate rose to meet the occasion.

But when their eyes met again, they both knew. There was a time and there was a reason but neither had managed to sync with the other quite yet.

Niles gave her a rueful smile. "Not yet, Babcock. Not another false start."

CC returned the smile and closed her eyes as he carefully kissed her forehead. Leaving her with his jacket, he turned and walked back to the car.


End file.
